


sheer silk and firelight

by ceylontea



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awakening, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild D/S elements, Porn Without Plot, Smut, bi grog, bottom grog, top gilmore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceylontea/pseuds/ceylontea
Summary: grog and gilmore have begun a fling. grog finds it very hard to focus when he's around his new lover. their friends know exactly when to give them some alone time
Relationships: Shaun Gilmore/Grog Strongjaw
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	sheer silk and firelight

**Author's Note:**

> i had to do it. enjoy!

Shaun Gilmore was wearing sheer silk and Grog was slowly losing his ability to function.

The outfit wasn’t even overtly revealing. Not really. It was actually plain in comparison with some of the outfits the merchant sorcerer put together. An indigo robe draped around his thick torso, pulled tight to his round belly and full waist by a scarf of infinite swirling colours. With all its folds, it covered most of his upper half, then flowed free over billowing printed pants. It was a casual outfit, bright and captivating, toeing the edge of gaudiness in an unabashed way which enchanted Grog entirely.

And then there was the movement of it. The true crux of its appeal. Because when Shaun turned and tilted and talked with his hands—which, let’s be honest, he was doing most of the time—it let free flashes of skin. When he stood in front of the fire, the fabric was alight and luminous and deliciously, temptingly _translucent_.

The robe presented the soft silhouette of the body that had always fascinated Grog. A form filled with confidence and strength, yet so beautiful, so warm and tender.

Grog tried very hard not to stare. The rest of Vox Machina were still present, after all. They were finishing their meal, expecting nothing more than a relaxed night of socialisation before heading off to bed.

It felt like a lesson in self-control.

“Grog?” Shaun said suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Are you still hungry? I can fetch more from the kitchen.”

Shaun was looking at him so sincerely. He must have assumed that Grog was hungry, but goodness, Grog was more stuffed than he thought he’d ever been in his life. Indulging in the wonderful spread laid out before him was helping to distract from the other urges running through him tonight.

Or, that was the theory.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m good.”

Shaun raised an eyebrow. Most of their friends were still talking, but Grog caught a worried glance from Pike in his periphery.

“You seem positively driven to distraction,” Shaun continued.

And now Grog couldn’t help himself. His gaze dipped down to the wide neckline of Shaun’s open robe. The teasing sight of thick hair curled over Shaun’s chest. His swathe of brown skin looked impossibly soft beside it.

Grog’s mouth went dry. His licked his lips.

Shaun’s brows both shot up this time. A slow smile spread across his face. He leaned forward just a little further. The robe slipped low to reveal the upper curve of one shoulder.

“Thinking about something?” he asked.

“Not much,” said Grog.

“Ah, well, it _is_ getting late.” Shaun made a show of glancing at the pretty mahogany clock he kept in the back corner. “Perhaps you’re tired.”

“Yes,” Pike said, quite quickly. “It is late. We should all be getting home.”

Grog was still looking at Shaun, so he only caught small pieces of what was happening around him. Pike hauled Scanlan to his feet. Vex said “ _oh”_ sharply, and jabbed Percy and Vax in the ribs with her elbows. Percy muttered an amused “ _again?_ ” And though Keyleth looked bewildered, she followed suit when they stood up.

“Um, Grog?” she said. “You coming home?”

“Yeah, I’ll catch up,” he muttered.

He glanced at them long enough to see Vex tugging Keyleth away by the arm. Shaun bid them all cheerful farewells at the door. He looked as innocent and friendly as ever. They thanked him profusely for the meal.

Grog couldn’t bring himself to say much. He felt heat stealing into his cheeks. He finished off the water in the glass Shaun had set before him—taking care of him already, in small thoughtful ways. But his mind was spinning. His breath was catching. He was grateful to his friends for clearing out, because now that this was happening, he realised how miserable he would have been if he’d gone straight home. He needed this.

He’d had sex with Shaun few times in the last fortnight. It was a very new fling for both of them. And his curiosity remained entirely unsatiated. He wanted to know every inch of Shaun’s body, and then he wanted to relearn it all over again. A thousand times. A million. A… he really didn’t understand numbers.

But he thought he might be starting to understand what love was. He thought he might be getting his first taste of deep romantic yearning alongside sex. Of affection and friendship and attraction all mingled in together.

He pushed the thoughts away for now.

“And so,” Shaun murmured, “we are alone.”

He walked nonchalantly back to the table. His robe had fallen entirely off one shoulder now. Calmly, he began to stack the dirty dishes.

“You’re very quiet,” he said. “I hope I’ve not read too far into this.”

“ _Fuck_ no,” Grog said. “I wanted- I hoped you’d need me to stay.”

Shaun smiled, continuing his work.

“It’s a good thing we decided to tell them about _us_ from the start. They would have worked it out tonight. You aren’t very subtle, dear boy.”

Grog’s lips parted with the smallest groan at the sound of that name. He felt, all at once, the attention of his cock, hardening from mere anticipation.

“Gilmore, I—”

“Uh, uh,” he tutted. “I think I gave you permission to be a little more familiar.”

Grog’s cheeks were flaming now, as Shaun looked up, eyes meeting his own. The brown depths of them were like velvet and shadow, woven with tendrils of light spun from the golden sunset hours at the edges of the world. They were full of promise.

“Shaun,” he corrected himself. “You’re so beautiful. I really _need you._ ”

“Well, you’ll have to wait,” Shaun said. “Just a little longer.”

He knew Grog liked to wait. He’d discovered it early on, by instinct, and then in careful, gentle questions. He had made sure to check everything, back when this first began, loathe to cause any discomfort. The conversation had made Grog’s head spin with dizzy affection.

But, though he liked it, waiting frustrated Grog, in the moment. He groaned as he watched Shaun finish clearing the table, and then sprung into action to help with the dishes. He was still half hard as he dried plate after plate and a whole row of horrid, empty glasses that had once been filled with alcohol, suddenly thoroughly resented for their existence.

“So,” Shaun said calmly while he washed. “What got you so bothered tonight? You seem even more affected than usual.”

“Ah,” Grog coughed, trying to clear the embarrassed lump in his throat. “You look- your clothes are- they made me keep thinking…”

“Do elaborate.”

Grog choked on his words again. He scratched his beard awkwardly, still unsure how to express his desires out loud.

“They made me wanna touch you so bad,” he admitted in a rush. “And whenever you moved I saw glances of skin and I kept watching the firelight against you and your pretty hair and your _hands_ and—”

Shaun wasn’t moving. Grog cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“No!” Shaun spun around, and Grog saw, thankfully, that his eyes were shining. “Never apologise for flattery, big man. You must know by now how much I love it.”

Grog whimpered slightly. He knew that look, with its flirtatious sparkle. Its intensity and desire.

They moved as one. Grog set down his current wineglass as carefully as he could stand to, and let the tea towel drop to the floor. Shaun flicked his hands and the suds vanished from the sink, the plates cleaning themselves. They closed the empty space between them. Shaun’s hands locked at the back of Grog’s head, and Grog clutched him tight at his waist, and their lips crushed together.

It was desperate, hungry. A click of teeth made Shaun chuckle and teasingly, scolding bite Grog’s lip. The sound of his amusement echoed deep in his chest, making Grog give a responding moan that rumbled through both their bodies.

Before Grog entirely knew what was happening, Shaun had backed him against the table, pressed on tiptoes to reach, despite how large he was in his own right. Grog gasped at the feeling of a cock on his thigh.

Shaun took advantage of the break in the kiss and trailed his lips down Grog’s jawline. He murmured something soft and indistinguishable against the skin there, nose buried in Grog’s beard, and then nibbled gently at the exposed skin of his neck.

“Yeah,” Grog breathed. “Yeah, there, that’s—”

He was melting already. He could feel his thoughts leaving him entirely.

Shaun spoke again, so gently, and Grog realised it was another language. Marquesian? The thought made his knees go weak, at the cleverness of the man before him, the _Shaun­_ ness of the moment, the wonderful beauty in being given such a tender, personal gift. One which he could not decipher, yet could somehow understand.

He sat back heavily against the table. His hands moved down Shaun’s lower back, splaying across his ass, more than a handful even for a goliath. He hitched his lover higher, lifting him so he was supported against Grog’s body.

Shaun hummed approval, returning to Grog’s lips with an impassioned tilt of his head, leaning his full weight in, confident that those strong arms could keep him up.

They settled there, entwined, feeling the heady heaviness of one another. Experiencing each breath, each gasp, each pitched, unsteady sound of vulnerable _need._

“B’roo’?” Grog tried to ask.

Shaun laughed, pulling back. His expression was so radiant that Grog almost forgot what he was saying.

“Bedroom?” he managed at last.

“No time, my dear,” Shaun said, biting his lip as his eyes trailed down. “I’d like to be inside you as soon as possible.”

Grog could not contain himself; he surged into another kiss.

“Same,” he said. “Oh, same, I need- you should—”

Shaun shifted carefully so that Grog would let him down. His feet hit the ground, and he raised both hands, easing his robe off one shoulder, then the other. Grog reached out for the belt, tugging clumsily at it, and growling low in his throat when it refused to come loose.

“Here,” Shaun said softly. He guided Grog’s hand to the knot at the back.

When Grog tore back the opalescent scarf, the rest of the sheer silk tumbled to the ground in a swirl on indigo, revealing an expanse of curves and brown skin and curly dark hair vanishing into the waistband of Shaun’s loose pants. Those pants were now visibly tight over a bulge. Grog swallowed.

One of Shaun’s hands came up to trail slowly down Grog’s stomach.

“Oh, you impossible man,” Shaun sighed. “How do you _look like this?_ ”

Grog tensed his muscles on purpose, smug smile crossing his face.

“A burden, really,” he said.

“How terrible for you,” Shaun whispered. He drew up to his full height again, neck arching, face inches from Grog’s. He let a smile flicker on his lips. “How lucky for me.”

He kissed Grog again, tongue firm and insistent, bare skin now pressing against Grog’s already-naked torso, their hips contacting off-centre and making the desire burn worse and worse and—

Grog felt those sure fingers moving, tickling slightly as they passed his hipbones, his waist. Deftly, Shaun unlatched the buckles that kept his wrap on, letting the cloth fall to the floor. Grog’s cock strained, desperate for further friction. Shaun smiled and rocked his body against it.

“ _Ah,_ ” Grog gasped, so overcome he lifted a hand to his scarlet face.

“Oh, sweet man,” Shaun cooed gently, still moving against him in wicked contradiction. “Don’t hide from me.”

Grog peeked between his fingers, down into hungry eyes.

Shaun pulled back just an inch and waved a hand. First, the golden glow of a safe sex cantrip lit the air between them. Then a bottle flew across the room, landing in Shaun’s hand. Grog recognised it. The sight made his stomach tense in pleased anticipation.

Shaun uncorked it and spilled a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. And he had always been so _good,_ but the sheer power and pride and craving in his stare was enough to make a fully grown goliath feel completely weak. In the best way.

Both soft hands returned to Grog’s skin now—to his ass. Broad thumbs gently brushed against his cheeks, and then dipped between perfect globes of muscle.

Grog could only gasp again. His hands flew backward to steady himself on the table. Shaun carefully slipped one finger inside, working him open. He began to murmur sweet words, all praise and appreciation and—Sarenrae herself—Grog thought he’d passed out and started dreaming of perfection.

As his gasps left him louder, hips stuttering, Shaun increased the tension, bringing him around a second finger.

“Now, please,” Grog whined. “ _Shaun._ ”

“Darling, you know how thick I am,” Shaun said softly. “We’re not rushing this.”

The high-pitched whimper that left Grog was all desperation, but he did as he was told, practising patience.

“Good boy,” Shaun approved.

And eventually, he eased in another finger, Grog’s hips bucking up.

“I’ll really come,” Grog said. “I really can’t hold- much longer—”

Shaun’s eyes were alive with fire. He pressed the most careful, slow kiss to Grog’s already debauched lips. He withdrew his hand, though Grog’s asshole fluttered from lost contact, and he turned him around.

Grog was all instinct at this point. He pressed his chest to the table, hands spread against the wood, ass in the air and begging for more.

“Oh, _Grog,_ ” Shaun whispered appreciatively, reverently, in a tone more complex and aching than anything Grog had ever heard before.

He felt firm hands run up his thighs, grip his hips. Shaun spilled more from his bottle of lube and loving worked his own cock in preparation.

Before Grog could decide that it was unfair that he couldn’t see, Shaun was easing inside him. He moaned so loud it was almost embarrassing, arching his back into the sensation, feeling the weight of the heavy thighs, the soft belly, wanting to be full and whole and _one_ with this other man.

Shaun was so gentle at first, he almost wanted to cry. Slowly, steadily, he built their pace, shifting his hips, sinking deeper and deeper and—

“ _Shaun,_ ” Grog whined. “Right there, I’m almost—”

“That’s it, Grog.” Shaun moved harder. His own breath was laboured. “Almost there. Fuck, you’ve been so good for me.”

“For you,” Grog said, as though reciting the best poetry he could write. “For you, for you, for you.”

Shaun leaned right forward, one hand anchored on the table beside Grog, one hand tight on his hip, making him pray for a bruise in memory, keeping them close together.

Grog’s hands clenched into fists. His body was alive with a glowing, building heat that simmered from deep in his core. He could hear the gasps in his ear, the warm breath of Shaun Gilmore, usually so refined and controlled and elegant, coming apart behind him, taking control of him, bare and needy and commanding and—

Shaun hit his peak all at once. He pounded against Grog, releasing deep inside of him, hissing out a quiet _fuck_ as he trembled through the height of pleasure.

He slipped out so gently after, and Grog turned to face him, legs shaky, cock so heavy it felt like anything could set him off.

Shaun looked satisfied and delighted, but there was still a spark to him. He kissed Grog with absolute certainty, hand wrapping around his immense cock, coated in the remainder of the lube he’d used on himself.

“Yes,” Grog sighed. “ _Shaun_.”

His hands fluttered uncertainly before settling on Shaun’s shoulders, clutching tight, wide palms on wide back.

Shaun twisted his wrist, smirking against Grog’s lips as he worked him with expert care, taking one, two, three more strokes before Grog felt the pleasure of it overwhelm all his senses. He came in a rush, letting out a guttural moan that barely approximated his lover’s name, yet would, be knew, be understood anyway.

Shaun worked him until his hips stilled and his eyelids fluttered open once again.

Grog found himself staring at the most enchanting person in the world. A beautiful, breathing, vibrant body that carried a wonderful soul, even more tempting in nudity than when draped in silk. Full lips that he had kissed. A soft, well-maintained beard that scratched so good. A strong nose that bumped his own in passionate kisses. Emotive brows accentuating a warm expression. And eyes that shone with a trembling happiness that _he_ had created.

And Grog Strongjaw wondered how long, exactly, he could do this without falling in love.


End file.
